Page 112 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
My jaw drops. How does he remember that? There was a single day in high school where I nearly got into a wreck when my car hydroplaned, and I’ve hated driving in the rain ever since. But it’s not like I constantly talked about it. I don’t even know if I ever told Jordan about that day. Why would I?
Jordan must see my question because he grabs his phone and types something out. My phone buzzes a second later. “Why are you going to be alone forever?” he asks Houston.
While Houston bemoans Darcy’s job, I open Jordan’s text.
Jordan: You always made Houston drive places whenever it rained. I connected the dots.
With my heart swelling and threatening to spill out through my eyes—that’s a metaphor that doesn’t make a lot of sense, despite the accuracy of the feeling—I type back my own text, taking care that every word is right.
Me: I don’t know how you see me so well, but I love you for it.
Jordan glances at the message on his watch and smiles wide. “Houston,” he says, though he throws a glance at me, “I hate to break it to you, but most people have real jobs. And rent at your place isn’t cheap. I’m sure she would have come if she could. Besides, I thought you had a thing going with that reporter, Tamlin.”
Houston’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “Are you kidding me? I hope I never have to see that nightmare of a woman ever again.”
Tamlin Park is at the bar.
Houston is the first to see her after we settle in at a table at Grey Bird Tavern after dinner. In the middle of our conversation, he chokes on his drink when he catches sight of her sitting at the bar and chatting up a man who looks like he wants to eat her. That doesn’t stop my brother from marching right up to her and starting a conversation.
“Okay, what am I missing?” Kit asks, eyes locked on Houston’s glower. He may be new to the family—he got together with Skyler last summer—but he tends to pick up on the little things. That makes him dangerous.
Jordan and I silently decided Houston is in no frame of mind tonight to deal with our new relationship, which means we’ve been trying to stay away from each other since showing up at the restaurant. It isn’t easy, and we keep accidentally bumping into each other or brushing hands, and it’s driving me crazy. Jordan’s temptation lesson keeps popping into my head, and at some point I need to tell him that he was totally right. Every time he touches me, my whole body yearns to lean into that touch.
But that’s not what Kit is asking about. My stepsister’s husband is perceptive, but I hope he’s notthatperceptive.
“He did an interview with Tamlin the night of the final game,” Jordan says with a chuckle. His knee shifts, bumping into mine.
I bump his knee right back, mostly to remind him to keep it to himself. I’m glad Fischer got showered with Houston’s soda when he choked and went to clean up with Micah; those two have been doing nothing but giving each other eyes all night. Dinner was a nightmare, watching them shoot furtive glances at each other while Kit and Skyler have never been shy about their affection for each other. Houston’s the only one on his own, and it’s for that reason Jordan and I are stuck pretending we wouldn’t rather be making out on my couch instead of pushing each other away.
“What’s wrong with an interview?” Skyler asks. “Also, she is gorgeous.”
“She’s known for taking down athletes,” Kit says with a shrug. “Though, I doubt Houston has anything to hide from her, so he should be safe.”
Jordan tenses up, failing to hide his scrunched up grimace.
Kit sees it too. “Does he have something to hide, Jordan?”
Jordan grabs his soda and starts chugging.Subtle.
“Are you and Houston going to make a bet on the trivia game?” I ask Kit, changing the subject even if I want to know the answer to his question just as much as he does.
Kit laughs as Skyler rolls her eyes. “Think he would go for it? He seems a bit distracted.”
Distracted is an understatement. I’ve never seen Houston this focused on another person before. Though they’re too far away to hear what they’re saying, the conversation looks intense.
“Does he want to kill her or kiss her?” Jordan asks, tilting his head. “I genuinely can’t tell.”
“Could be both,” Kit says with a laugh. He turns back to me. “What kind of bet would really get to him but not hurt you? It needs to be a team thing.” He looks at Tamlin again, mischief in his eyes.
Jordan catches on quickly. “We’re short a player, aren’t we? I want the quick-thinking reporter on my team. Queens?”
I usually don’t care for Houston’s antics with Kit, but this sounds like a great way to bring my brother down a peg or two. He’s never going to settle down if he doesn’t have to work at a relationship, so it would be nice if something didn’t come easy for him.
“Loser has to wear a Halloween costume of the winner’s choice,” I suggest as Jordan hops up and heads straight for Houston and Tamlin. “But don’t make it too terrible.”
Kit hums thoughtfully. “What will Jordan think of that one? Or will he not care because he loves you too much to say no?”
I shake my head. “You are creepy sometimes, Kit Morgan.”
